Serves 20
Cook 7 or 10 lbs. Potatoes
Let cool at least 3 hours
Add to Vita-Mix:
2c. Almonds
1t. Sea Salt or more
1t. Onion powder
Blend till fine paste. Add:
1 Whole peeled lemon
1 1/3 c. Water
Dice:
1 head Celery
1 firm Onion
Add:
3c. Olives
1/2 c. Prepared Mustard
3c. White long Mung bean Sprouts (Optional)
1 T. Apple Cider Vinegar
Cut the cooled potatoes into bite sized chunks, mix all above.
Top with 1 fresh tomato diced.
This is really good the next day after all the flavors have mixed!
Grandma and Grandpa took me to the hospital
to meet my baby sister.
Mom and Dad gave me a doll named Dianne,
so both Mom and I would have a baby.
I still have the doll.
Remarkably, she still has her hat
and still blows strawberry kisses when I squeeze her.
Someday I hope to give her to my little girl.
17-year-old Tara, came in a Taxi with her mother. She was a beautiful well dressed black girl not just a little beautiful she was “drop dead gorgeous.” Her mother was the same. I tried to give the girl a pamphlet on abortion and it’s effects on women and help. She shook her head sadly.
“She has to! This will mess up her whole life.” Her mother retorted.
I showed the young girl a model of a 10 week baby, the normal size to abort. “I would love to adopt your baby!” I said softly.
She listened quietly. I talked to her as our friend Terri Palmquist talked to the mother. As the mother hustled her to the stairs of the clinic, I called, “You are such a beautiful girl you would have a beautiful child! Please, I would love to adopt your baby!”
As the young girl moved toward the door she looked back at me three times with searching eyes. I could tell this was something her mom was pushing her to do. She was just going along with it. She went in. The door closed.
“Well, that is about all you can do. So little time. Just wait for the next girl,” I thought. I was not much of a yeller there yet. Terri said, “If you yell, they can hear you through the glass upstairs.” We were out on the sidewalk.
15 minutes later the mom came out on the balcony talking on her cell phone, “She does not want it, but, I told her she has to.”
When I heard that, it gave me urgency and a lot more backbone. I told Terri. She yelled. I prayed God would give us the words. He did.
I called out, “Don’t listen to your mother! Fight for your child. Fight against all enemies that would hurt your child... Your baby wants to live. Only YOU can fight for your baby. He has no voice to fight. To be a mother is one of the greatest gifts God gives a women. To be a mother is a great honor.”
Around 4:40 P.M. after we were long gone, Terri was in her motor home getting ready to call it a day. Tera stood outside wanting to talk. Teri’s daughter, Amy, walked up. Tara’s mother said, “Where are they?”
“Huh?” our friend Amy said.
“I’m just waiting for a ride,” the mother said.
Tara wanted to tell the good news. “Your words kept going through my mind. I am keeping my baby!”
Terri gave her a plastic ziplock bag of sweet baby clothes. She had happy tears.
